Novel & Cerita Yakuza In Love

She lowered her gaze, trying to hide her bruised face, but Yama gently held her chin, looking her straight in the eyes. "No wonder our Director couldn't move on. You're indeed beautiful, Miss Lucien," Yama said before standing up. Confused, Lucien simply followed Yama with her gaze. "You know, to be honest with you, I'm trying to pursue the Director. But I know that even before I've started to make a move, I've already lost," Yama said cheerfully, though she knew she was just faking it. Loving someone like the Director would only hurt her in the end. Of course, the Director hadn't moved on, and now, here was her wife, alive.

The questions were coming. And then, Yuriko start to speak. “So…” she began softly, “how did you two meet?” Sakura took a breath. Mayu was still leaning against her, arms gently wrapped around Sakura’s. And slowly, Sakura began to share the story. About that night in Hamamatsucho—when she was drunk, unable to find her way home. How Heri, a stranger at the time, had helped her. How she had clung to him, refusing to let go, and how he had taken her to a hotel… letting her sleep in the bed while he took the couch.

ok says Ibrahim, both sleep and after some days Ibrahim gets well perfectly, right now Ibrahim was making love to mehak, just then Ibrahim phone ranged up, he doesn't want to receive it but seen caller name he says Jaan this is important he received it and says hello, hello me Ibrahim I am your Dr I got your money to thank you, Ibrahim sir if you want some more help just call me, Ibrahim says ok and cuts the call, on the other hand, Dr wife says Ibrahim khan gave you this much money why? dr says because he loves his wife very much he can do anything for her you see mafia possessive love, Ibrahim made love to mehak and says this mafia man can do anything for his mehak, only you can make me on

Two years ago… 2015 Adam’s POV What is home? Home for me is not four walls and a ceiling. Home for me is the love of my life Aria. It’s been six years we’ve been together. How we met? In university, first year medicine to be exact. She caught my attention when she first tripped over my legs causing her nose to start bleeding and blame my so called “long legs”

"Let's go." Luca Datero's car was a black luxury sedan. Sitting in the back seat of the expensive car wearing an expensive suit, Luca Datero looked more like a successful young businessman from Manhattan than a mafioso. Eugene inwardly sighed, recalling Valentine mentioning Luca Datero during their quasi-sexual encounter at the Long Island villa. This news would surely reach Valentine's ears, and there would inevitably be a storm when he returned.

Everything feels so painfully normal. Tamrin reaches over and hands me a soda. “Here, drink up. We’re about to start the first movie. Presley picked it.” I take the can and nod, giving Presley a quick smile. “What’d you pick?” “Some cheesy rom-com,” she says with a grin. “Hope you’re in the mood for a good cry.” I force a laugh. “Aren’t I always?” Tamrin snorts. “Please, Celeste never cries. She’s like a robot or something.”

Stripping off my dress, it pooled on the floor, my gaze then drawn to his abandoned shirt – black, a hue that seemed synonymous with him. My lips moistened involuntarily as I noticed the dampness, though not of water. I couldn't discern the color, but a sinking realization painted a vivid image in my mind: blood. Surprisingly, disgust didn't rear its head. How could it, when the man before me was Artemy Loskutov? A complex tapestry woven from disparate threads – a monster, a ruthless killer, and yet, my tender lover. I embraced each facet, for they were all him, and he was the man I loved.

Well, since I’m feeling generous, I’ll indulge you. Eleven years ago, my father had dealings with the Yakuza. He never shared all the details, but it had something do with Adira’s grandfather’s betrayal. My father, seeking revenge against the family that had nearly ruined ours, reached out to the Kumicho to form an alliance. But the Yakuza don’t help anyone without a personal gain. That’s where the matter of marriage was introduced. A contract, sealed in blood, between my father and Yuna’s father—a deal Baba believed they’d honour, bound by their sacred code: Ninkyo dō, was signed.

“I am afraid. But I’m not going to give you the image anymore. I’m just Kalia Ford. I wasn’t born with money. I worked for everything I have. And I’m afraid of being in love. Of being in love with you. Because I’m afraid that I’m not enough.” He looked at Kalia, his heart hammering in his chest. Then he crossed the room and took her in his arms, her body warm and soft against him. “You’re everything, Kalia. Don’t ever doubt it.” He smoothed her silky hair, sifted his fingers through it. “I love you. When you’re in your business suits ready to take on the world, and when you’re crying after we’ve made love. I love everything about you. Every part of you. It’s all you.”

That stops me in my tracks. I want to laugh. To scream. To cry. Eventually, crying wins. I let the sobs wreck my body, letting out gut-wrenching sounds that echo through the cold air. Eventually, they stop, and I rub at the corners of my eyes. I’m a wreck. I’m in love with Alessandro de Rossi. A mafia boss. The enemy of my family. Russo Family. The kindest, most thoughtful man I’ve ever met. The sweetest dad. The skilled lover.